I'm missing the sound of your heart beating
by tangeton
Summary: "My coronation is next month," Atem says, voice soft. "My father's Vizier and the High Council have been ruling as I finish my studies. Will you be there?" It is, in retrospect, a stupid question because neither of them can predict a pattern to when Yuugi comes and goes. (In which Yuugi is the time-travelling guardian of a young Pharaoh Atem.)


**A/N:** Yo, okay, so I was readin' the Shadow RPG arc when I thought about Akhnamkanon sacrificing himself to have Hasan protect Atem. So what if the gods gave him Yuugi? Originally written 15 August 2015. Posted to AO3 26 October 2016.

* * *

 **Part 1: _Akhet_**

The sand moves like water around his finger as it sketches a complex path, looping in and out of its own connections with no particular destination in mind. Seven years old, the young Crown Prince Atem of Khemet sits in one of the palace's many gardens with feet dug firmly in the sand, concentration firmly on creating his masterwork. Bright but critical eyes look up to stare at the bright pink lotus sitting idly in the pond. Crimson eyes suddenly narrow, and the drawing is marred with a single streak of a frustrated hand.

Flinging himself backwards into the sand, an arm haphazardly thrown over his eyes in an effort to obscure the power of Ra's light, the memories of today's events begin to creep through his thoughts.

Today was no special holiday, but on this day his father had asked that he accompany him to the Temple of Ra to make offerings. Atem agreed readily, embarrassingly eager to spend any time his busy father could spare together.

And if he sounds a little bitter about that fact, it is probably because it is the truth. But, young as Atem was, he knew a pharaoh's duty to his people. Flickering feelings of loneliness and isolation are sidelined as Atem continues to hold his head high, trying his best to become a son his father would be proud of. A pharaoh worthy of the people, like his father.

But the trip turned out to be a lot less entertaining than his imagination had made it out to be—he had very nearly lost his life to a trap in the temple. His father had not deigned to help him when he called out, instead choosing to watch as Atem realized that he had to rely on his own strength of will to save himself. The fleeting look of pride in his father's eyes easily made the ordeal worth it, but for reasons he cannot yet pinpoint, it is a lesson that still tugs harshly on his conscience.

But it was the offering to the Gods that confused him. They had gone into the temple empty-handed, nothing to offer but themselves, and Atem had not thought to question his father.

Upon reaching the altar, his father had immediately prostrated himself before the Gods and begged them in a voice filled with a desperation Atem had never heard before, for a protection Atem still did not fully understand.

Possible explanations for the visit begin to crowd his thoughts. Atem rubs at his eyes with the broad sides of his palms in an attempt to ward off the oncoming headache. The pharaoh always had an agenda, Atem reasons, if his father had a good reason to make such a strange request to the Gods, then Atem will have to place his trust in his father. Buried deeply in his thoughts, Atem does not notice the shadow falling over his prone form.

"Is this a drawing of a flower?"

It is a voice the young prince does not recognize. Atem lifts his arm to see a stranger with curious, violet eyes leaning over Atem's sand drawing, hands braced against his knees. He is wearing clothes of a fashion Atem has never seen before, and Atem finds that he lacks the words to describe them. He wears a coat of sorts on his torso, a shade of deep blue that matches the cloth that wraps around his legs. A black tunic lies underneath the coat. On his feet are strange black shoes with silver jewels that glitter in the sun, which coincidentally seem to match the belt that wraps around his neck. Atem's eyes widen as they land on the Millennium Pendant resting around his neck.

But it is not what the other boy wears that shocks him so much. It is the fact that he looks so much like an older version of himself.

He leans back into standing position as Atem sits up.

"I'm sorry," the other boy laughs nervously. "It's just that I think I've gotten lost in this place. It's hot and I'm lost. No, I'm Yuugi. My name is Yuugi. Sorry, I should have introduced myself first." He holds out a hand for Atem to take. Atem looks at the proffered hand and takes it cautiously with small fingers and they shake hands.

"I'm the prince," Atem says, eyeing the other boy with unabashed curiosity. His eyes flicker over to the drawing Yuugi is observing. "What's wrong with my drawing?"

"Oh," Yuugi says, looking back at him. Atem is startled to find violet eyes meeting his, an uncommon color, no doubt, but he is more taken aback by the implication—no commoner of lesser rank would dare to meet a prince's eyes. But it is what his older lookalike says that stuns him the most: "You drew this? It's beautiful!"

Atem can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks. "Really?" he asks, and he hates how weak his voice sounds in light of the praise. A vigorous nod is his response, and Yuugi reaches out to trail a finger through the trough of a petal.

"It's a shame it's been half-erased," Yuugi says, but it sounds like he knows who did it. "You're so young; do you take art lessons or something?"

Atem shakes his head. "No, I just draw when I'm bored."

"Have you thought about becoming an artist?"

"No," Atem says, and watches as Yuugi sits down on the ground in front of the drawing. "I don't actually enjoy drawing," he admits, which is strange, because he's not usually in the habit of going around telling strangers about what hobbies he may or may not have. Art reminds him too much of his studies, the hieroglyphs and hieratic texts that make his head spin on a regular basis.

Yuugi looks confused for a brief moment before smiling brightly.

"Yeah, I understand. Though I can't draw, myself. I like playing games, more."

Atem's interest flares to life. "Games?"

"Oh, do you like games too?" There's a hint of excitement in Yuugi's voice and it intrigues him. Atem stands and makes his way towards Yuugi, who is kneeling in front of the area of garden that is decorated with sand.

"I don't actually know," Atem says, and it's true. Outside of the occasional games of hide-and-seek the young apprentice mage girl drags him into, he doesn't have much experience playing games. And even if he had the time to spare to learn the games of his era, he doesn't really know anyone he could ask to play with him. Seth is always around the Priest Akhenaden, ostensibly for his High Priest training.

"Let's find out, then," Yuugi says, patting the space next to him on the ground. Atem sits, and feels a little small next to the taller teenager. "Do you know any games we could play?"

"No," Atem says, and has the ridiculous mental image of Yuugi attempting to fit into one of the many pots inside the palace. Yuugi hums and reaches around himself, patting the ground until he pulls out a stray stick. He breaks it in two pieces and hands the stick to Atem.

"How about tic-tac-toe, then?" Yuugi asks, looking at Atem for confirmation. Atem nods vigorously, eager to learn this new game. Yuugi smiles at him and uses his stick to draw a three by three grid in the sand and two figures below it, a circle and a cross. "This is one of the simplest games I know, but there can be a few interesting tricks to it. Would you like to be X or O?"

Atem considers the two symbols and picks the circle—it reminds him of the sun that he loves so much, complete and radiant.

"The aim of the game is to connect three of your symbols in a row." Yuugi demonstrates by drawing lines through the board of all possible winning combinations. He then erases the board in the sand and redraws the grid. "We take turns making moves. Your opponent will try to block you and try to win, themselves. I'll let you go first."

Atem does, and watches anxiously as Yuugi makes his own moves. Yuugi makes a move that connects two of his crosses in a move Atem did not see coming, having been so focused on making his own connections. The small sting of loss ignites the competitive spirit he didn't know he even had and he finds himself demanding a rematch. The smile on Yuugi's face is bright and he obliges. Already a master at this game, Atem and Yuugi go head to head in the next short game and it comes out as a draw. The next game has the same result, as is the next, and the one after that.

"I don't understand," Atem says, scrutinizing the board like it would betray its secrets if he stared long enough. "Every game we play is now a draw. Is this supposed to happen?"

Yuugi laughs. "I didn't think you'd get so good at the game so quickly, so I guess not. But eventually it would have, if both players are playing their best moves."

Atem closes his eyes in thought and has a sudden revelation.

"You taught me this game to teach me good sportsmanship," Atem accuses, but with no real heat. "A simple game to be played by young children like me. If both players are playing their best, it shouldn't even matter if there is a winner."

"That actually wasn't my intention," Yuugi says, looking a little stunned, but pleased nonetheless. "You're right, though. Winning or losing shouldn't matter in a game, as long as you're having fun. And like you said, games can sometimes be used to teach."

"Thank you, Yuugi," Atem says, and finds himself meaning it. His next words come out a little hesitant. "Would you… play more games with me?"

Yuugi looks surprised that he even asked. "Of course!" He picks up the stick he dropped in surprise. "There are so many more variations of tic-tac-toe, like Connect Four or Quarto, but I think we can play another game." Atem perks up at these new, unfamiliar names and considers asking Yuugi about the rules of these games, but it sounds like Yuugi has another game in mind. "If you help me find a couple more of these smooth sticks, we can play pick-up-sticks." Atem nods enthusiastically and disappears into a nearby bush to look for sticks. He emerges a few seconds later with an assortment of the best sticks he could find collected from the ground beneath the old sycamore tree.

He had been half-afraid that Yuugi was a figment of his imagination, something that would disappear the moment he looked away, like a mirage in the desert. But to his relief, Yuugi is still there, tamping down the dirt with his hands in the shade with a look of concentration that looks ridiculously out of place on his face. Atem grins and hurries over to the teenager with spoils in hand.

"Oh, great!" Yuugi takes the sticks Atem hands him and starts sanding the rough edges of the sticks by rubbing them against each other until the sticks are satisfactorily smooth. Atem helps out with a few sticks with what strength his small arms can afford, and before they know it, they have a set of pretty smooth sticks.

Yuugi begins to explain the rules of the game, demonstrating as he points as the sticks.

"Okay, let's make these tan ones one point, since we have a lot of them. Darker brown can be five points, and this really cool red one can be worth ten. I'll gather them in one hand and throw them on the ground, and the goal of the game is to get as many sticks as you can without moving any other sticks. If you get one you can go again but if you move any other sticks, your opponent gets to go. When all of them are gone, we'll count our points and the person with the most points wins! Easy, right?"

A smile finds its way across Atem's face and he grins at Yuugi. "I'll win this time, just watch me." Yuugi returns his grin and reaches over to playfully mess up his hair. Atem squawks in indignation and bats away the offending appendage.

"We'll play rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first, do you know how to play?" Yuugi asks him, and Atem shakes his head in the negative. It's another simple game, and Yuugi chooses scissors and he chooses paper, so Yuugi goes first. The sticks scatter on the ground, overlapping one another like the weaves of a basket. Yuugi crouches close to the ground to select his first stick and the game goes on.

They end up having a lively conversation over their competition.

"How can you even like summer, it's so hot! It's hot and I have to do homework in front of a fan because school isn't out until July!" Atem pulls out a 5-point stick that is deceptively loose under the pile. The next stick he attempts to pull jostles the pile. He lets out a breath and points at Yuugi, mock-accusing. Atem doesn't know the strange terms Yuugi uses and concludes that he must be a foreigner, but the implication is lost on the young prince in the face of how ridiculous the complaint sounds.

"That's silly," Atem says to Yuugi, pointing at him with his newly-acquired stick. "How long have you been in Khemet that you do not even know that it is hot all year? Maybe you should wear less clothing," he says, gesturing at the warm-looking clothes Yuugi is wearing. Yuugi kneels down and scrutinizes the pile before selecting a 1-point stick close to Atem's side. He pulls out a 5-point stick next, but on the next draw he accidentally jostles a stick which ends his turn.

"It's not that thick," Yuugi protests, but concedes as he sheds the piece of clothing that looks like a coat. The already pale skin of his arms glow white under the sun. "I didn't think it would be that hot in a dream but you're right. So tell me, what do you do all day that keeps you so cool?"

Atem hums in thought and considers. "I learn how to write like the scribes do. But I also study literature and history." Yuugi frowns as he watches Atem go on a 1-point stick pulling spree.

"All work and no play?" Yuugi says when it is his turn. "I think I'd burn out if I didn't take a break."

"It is my duty as the next in line for the throne of Khemet," he recites, but it sounds like a mantra with no power, like words memorized on a page that he has been asked to repeat. "Father says that I must be knowledgeable to be a good ruler."

Yuugi's brow furrows in confusion before it smooths out. "I swear I have heard that name somewhere. It's really familiar. Ah!" The pile shifts minutely. "Drat," Yuugi snaps his fingers. "I was distracted!"

Atem sticks his tongue out at him, suddenly feeling childish. It is the advantage he needs to win. "Your loss, Yuugi!"

Yuugi does indeed lose the game, but they end up laughing about it over their collected sticks. Yuugi shows him something he calls a 'high-five' and they end up rolling around in the dirt trying to poke each other with their sticks before they end up resting under the shade of the largest tree in the garden.

"Um, Yuugi?" Yuugi moves over from his spot to look at him. The dirt looks silly on his paler skin; it is much less noticeable on Atem's own darker complexion. He blurts out his next few words and it's not surprising that Yuugi isn't able to hear him.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Atem takes a deep breath. "Will I ever see you again?"

He is alarmed to see a watery look cross Yuugi's face. Yuugi rolls over some more and catches him in a hug that knocks the breath right out of his lungs.

"I really hope so," Yuugi says, sounding like he means it. "We're friends, right? No way we couldn't not meet again, dream or not!"

"Friends," Atem echoes, and likes the sound of the word. He places a small hand on Yuugi's arm, like the act might actually keep this stranger from another land with him forever.

They fall asleep in the afternoon sun like that, and then next time Atem wakes up, Yuugi is gone. The disappearance of his new friend feels like a sharp betrayal, but Atem does not hold it against him. He does not own Yuugi, and there's a secret hope that they'll meet again someday. He keeps the pick-up-sticks carefully bundled up in a box under his bed and learns to play all the games that he can learn in preparation for that day.

* * *

The next time they meet, only later that same year, father is dead.

"Oh." The sound of heels clicking on the stone floor of his bedroom. "What happened?"

"Yuugi," Atem says, and he means it to sound like an acknowledgement. It sounds more like a plea for help. He hates how the tears make his voice catch on his friend's name. He hears footfalls nearing his bed, and a slight pressure dips the side of the bed as Yuugi perches on it. A hand finds its way to his back, haltingly rubbing soothing circles. Atem finds the courage to speak again. "My father, he…" It's hard, and he's partially afraid that saying it will make it _real,_ irrevocable. He swallows. He will never see his father alive ever again. "He's dead."

The hand halts in place, and it feels heavy on his back. "Oh, no." Like an emotional floodgate suddenly broken, that is all Atem needs to throw back the covers and leap into Yuugi's arms.

Yuugi's arms wrap securely around him as he sobs into his tunic. Atem clings to him like a parasite, spilling regrets, anger, and grief into the darkness of the room, and Yuugi holds him. Yuugi mumbles apologies, condolences and meaningless but sincere platitudes Atem wishes were true.

"I'm so sorry," Yuugi says. "No one deserves this."

"I should have noticed it," Atem howls into Yuugi's soaked shirt. "It's my fault! He got more depressed every day, and no one noticed it until he couldn't move from his bed anymore, but I did, and I could have done something about it!"

Yuugi's arms tighten around his shoulders, protective. "Please don't," he begs, as Atem lets loose another sob. "It's not your fault. It's no one's. Death… it happens, even to the best of people." Yuugi runs a gentle hand through his hair, smoothing it down so that it might become less unruly than it naturally is. "I've never lost a parent, yet, and I can't imagine how it feels. If I lost my Grandpa, I don't think I'd ever fully recover from it. But…" Yuugi pauses and buries his face in Atem's hair. "But it takes a certain strength of character to for someone to take a tragedy and come out stronger than they were before."

He chokes on his words. "I'm not that strong," he mumbles into Yuugi's stomach, and his stomach feels like a cage of butterflies.

"You could be," Yuugi says gently, pulling Atem back until their eyes meet, crimson and violet gleaming in the light of the moon through the balcony. His gaze is all hard determination and tender kindness. "You said you were a prince. A good king doesn't need to hide his weaknesses to be great."

Atem doesn't feel worthy of that, or what else it might mean, but the words embed themselves in his heart. It feels like the kind of moment that should be memorialized in paintings, scrawled in literature for generations to come. For now, he is young and he is hurt, and all he wants to do is for someone to hold him until he falls asleep.

"Please stay," Atem begs of the other, and Yuugi wordlessly draws him back into his embrace.

* * *

Atem counts the seasons as they pass, from Inundation to Harvest. The city changes like a living entity, buildings and public works are erected and others, destroyed. He changes too, in obvious ways like his height or the tone of voice, or what he is supposed to wear as he grows older. But there are subtle changes that are hard to identify, like the way he holds himself or the way his temperament changes. Their next meeting is mercifully less embarrassing than the last.

"Hello," Yuugi says.

"Hello," Atem returns, and promptly drops his pile of scrolls and runs into open arms.

The reunion is brief but emotional, and Atem is glad he is still young enough that he might still be allowed a few childish actions.

Yuugi pulls away from the embrace with a beaming smile. "You've grown!" Glittering violet eyes look over him with a critical eye and Atem feels heat rush to his cheeks. It's not like he needs approval, he is the child pharaoh of a kingdom; technically he needs no one's approval but his own.

But with Yuugi, things are always a little different.

"I'll be taller than you, someday," Atem promises and steps away to pick up his fallen scrolls, now strewn all over the floor. "You know, I always worry that you will never find your way back to me, but you always do." Scrolls now bundled securely in his arms, Atem gestures at Yuugi to follow and continues down the hallway to his study.

The characteristic clacking of Yuugi's shoes follows him, and it's strange how the sound reassures him.

"Yeah, exactly that," Yuugi says, coming up beside him. "It's funny because I've had some theories about this whole disappearing reappearing thing. In fact, the first time I met you I was almost sure that meeting you was some kind of dream. After the second time, I wasn't so sure. And now, a third…" Atem glances at him sidelong as they enter the study. He drops the scrolls on his desk and moves to lean against the surface. Yuugi walks over to join him, looking contemplative. His gaze wanders down to their matching Millennium Pendants.

"When I was younger, I noticed that you wore a Millennium Pendant of your own and wondered if you were an older version of myself," Atem offers, when no response is forthcoming. "I thought briefly that you might have taken the one my father had owned, but then, no one was running around looking for a thief." Yuugi's hands come up to cradle his copy of the Pendant as he thought.

"I don't think I'm another you, but the older you get, the closer the resemblance seems, doesn't it?" Yuugi laughs. "I don't think I ever told you I'm not from this place, did I?" Atem shakes his head, and the golden earrings attached to his lobes jangle a little with the movement. "I sleep, and when I wake up I'm here. It doesn't happen every day, more like every five or seven days in between trips."

"It's been two years since I last saw you," Atem supplies, carefully skirting around the topic of his father's death but grateful for the memory of Yuugi's company years ago. "I'm almost eleven years old now."

Yuugi smiles and Atem thinks he's going to get sentimental but the expression ends up looking more sorrowful than merry. "Barely any time passes for me and years pass for you. I'm really, really sorry I couldn't be here for you."

"It's not your fault," Atem protests, and reaches over to grasp Yuugi's hand in his own. His hand is soft, a warm and comforting weight in his own. "I'm already very grateful for the friendship and support you've given me in the short time I've known you." Yuugi's hand closes around his own, a confirmation that his misplaced friend is a real presence, who is actually here with him and far from a dreaming hallucination supplied by a lonely mind.

"You're so formal," Yuugi giggles, using his grip to pull Atem into a half-embrace and ruffling his hair until it is unruly to the point of no return. "I hope you're making sure to have fun even when I'm not looking."

Atem rolls his eyes but a mischievous sparkle enters his eyes. "I've gotten pretty good at games, you know." It occurs to him that they haven't completed their discussion on Yuugi's existence as a spectre popping in and out of Atem's life. "How did you come by the Pendant, again?"

"Ah, right, the Puzzle," Yuugi says, sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot. It was in pieces when I first got it from my Grandpa, and I'm pretty sure all of this started the night I put it together."

Atem looks at Yuugi more seriously now. It is not a well-known secret that the Pendant is actually a Puzzle. Indeed, when Atem first received the Pendant, it had also been in pieces, shattered by High Priest Akhenaden for him to reassemble. Assembling the Pendant was a way of proving he was worthy of wielding such a power. He himself had only recently completed the Pendant. Atem trusted Yuugi, and to hear that Yuugi was able to assemble the Pendant meant he was a chosen bearer of the artifact. For what reason, he does not know. "Where did your grandfather find your Puzzle?"

"He said he found it in an old Egyptian tomb," Yuugi says. Atem is sure a little of the offense shows on his face because Yuugi hurries to add an explanation. "Oh no, Grandpa isn't a tomb robber, he's more like an archaeologist. Of the gambling kind. That is, he studies ancient civilizations through artifacts."

"I'll take your word for it that your grandfather is a good man. But I know not of this 'Egypt' you speak of. I assume that it is your word for Khemet?" He cannot imagine another civilization possessing the power of the Items. Yuugi nods in affirmation.

"I did research in between dreams and I found that Khemet is the ancient equivalent of the modern day Egypt," Yuugi says, and it doesn't take a genius to make the inference that Yuugi is a time-traveler from another land. "I think I'm time travelling in my sleep."

"I am half-convinced you were sent by the gods to watch over me, as conceited as it sounds. I just wonder why," Atem says, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the floor. "For what reason do I merit such a guardian?"

Yuugi is silent, and a moment passes quietly before either of them speak again. "You know, that's not as crazy as it sounds. Maybe it's the gods or maybe it's magic. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the Puzzle, though."

"The Pendant is magic," Atem explains, holding up his own Pendant. "It grants a power beyond human understanding. It was…" his nose scrunches up in recollection. He tries to remember the words Mahaad told him when he began magical training with the Pendant. "It was created with the purpose of protecting the peace of the kingdom."

"Just wait until I tell Grandpa that. He's convinced that it grants 'the powers of darkness' or something like that." Yuugi snorts. Atem wonders about Yuugi's admission and tries to remember his lessons with Mahaad and any mention of dark powers. "Do you know how it is used?"

"Yes, I have been training with it," Atem says, with no small amount of pride. To be chosen by the Millennium Pendant is a high honor, the most powerful and selective of the Millennium Items created by his father. "I am supposed to use it to pass judgement, to punish criminals, and to defend myself and others by summoning _Ka_." The look of confusion is stark on Yuugi's face and Atem laughs and offers up the best answer he can give. "Perhaps you are not familiar with our concept of the soul? There are two important parts of a person's soul, the _ba_ and the _ka._ A person's _ba_ is like their personality, everything that makes a man who he is. The _ka_ is more like the spirit, the vital spark that separates us from the dead. With the Millennium Items, it is a little different. The wielders of the Items are able to use the magic contained in the Items to manifest their spirit guardian, their _ka_ , or summon one. A person's _ba_ allows him to command the guardian to carry out their will."

By the time his explanation is complete, Yuugi's eyes are wide with astonishment. "That's amazing! I… wow." Yuugi leans forward to cradle his version of the golden, inverted pyramid. Atem watches Yuugi turn it over in his hands, the light filtering through the windows hitting the item at just the right angle so that it glows in way that Atem's own Pendant does not. On closer inspection, as if to prove Yuugi's time-traveller status, Yuugi's Puzzle has the appearance a time-worn object, subtle scuffing and a worn edge or two. But they don't detract from its inherent beauty, only contributing to it. "I don't think any of the archaeologists in my day would ever have dreamed that people once could control magic."

Atem blinks. "In your time, people don't have _heka,_ magic?"

Yuugi shakes his head. "No, most people don't even believe it exists. I certainly didn't, up until a few moments ago."

They let the silence rest between them, the weight of the conundrum before them heavy on their minds. The somber look on Yuugi's face affects Atem strongly, and he is struck with the strong and sudden desire to remove it.

He pushes away from his desk with a light shuffling of cloth, coming to stand before Yuugi, whose gaze is downturned and staring at the golden Puzzle cradled in his palms. Atem's hands are still smaller than Yuugi's, made starkly clear when he places his hands over Yuugi's own, two pairs of hands layered over the each other over the older Puzzle.

"I don't care if we never solve the mystery. What I know is, as long as you have the Puzzle, we will always find our way back to each other."

He looks up to find Yuugi's expression overcome with emotion. "Yeah, I… yeah." Atem lifts his hands away as Yuugi brings a hand to wipe away the tears from his eyes. The Puzzle drops back down to its home resting against Yuugi's chest. Yuugi manages a teary smile at the young pharaoh. "Hey, I'll write this all down to figure out later when I wake up. This is a lot to digest. You think you can beat me at another game?"

A sly look crosses Atem's face as he retreats to the back of the study in search of a certain hidden stash of his. "Have you ever played Senet?"

The light of challenge enters Yuugi's glittering violet eyes. Atem knows that it is mirrored in his own. "Teach me."

* * *

Thereafter, Yuugi's visits become more frequent. They spend many evenings playing games with each other, exchanging information about their own respective cultures and conversing about the conspiracy of Yuugi's role as a time traveler. If Yuugi's company is truly a result of the Pendant, it is a gift Atem believes he will always treasure. They are each other's own cornerstones—Atem is Yuugi's anchor in a foreign land and Yuugi is his beacon in the whirlwind of his adolescence, a reprieve from the endless responsibilities of statehood.

They argue over chess, backgammon, and the potential repercussions of changing history.

 _("You're not going to accidentally wipe mankind off the map," Atem grumbles. Yuugi throws a fistful of reeds in his general direction and moves a pawn forward. "Have you considered that maybe you were destined to travel back in time?")_

They gossip about their friends and family, and Atem learns that Yuugi is something of a prankster.

 _("I have this friend, his name is Jounouchi, and honestly, every day I went to school I'd have a nasty surprise waiting in my desk. Naturally, I had to get him back. I'll have you know that I don't pull any malicious pranks! But the next time Seth decides to wake you up early, you should try putting blue dye in his bath.")_

And most of all, Atem finds a confidant.

 _("My coronation is next month," Atem says, voice soft. "My father's Vizier and the High Council have been ruling as I finish my studies. Will you be there?" It is, in retrospect, a stupid question because neither of them can predict a pattern to when Yuugi comes and goes.)_


End file.
